Sacrificium
by BellatrixLestrangey
Summary: Regina is disturbed by vivid and haunting nightmares where she is being sacrificed to the dark. These nightmares begin to bleed into everyday life and she begins to fear for not just herself but Henry as well.
1. Athame

_The sky above was barren. She didn't even have the stars to comfort her. To distract her from the coarse rope cutting into and making her wrists grow raw and crusty with scab. Her frantic eyes—doing everything in their power to avoid The Cyrcle—fixed themselves on the naked canopy. Pale white branches twisted into the night sky like gnarled skeletal fingers. They were no less spooky and haunting than everything else._

 _A raven cawed somewhere distant. A wolf gave answer. Only once, as if not to attract themselves any more attention. Now all that remained was a harsh rustling and crack of branches slapping against one another._

 _Regina held herself as still as possible, not that she had a choice in the matter._

 _It seemed to be growing darker still. Perhaps the moon was too afraid to shine at this hour. The mist that had been swirling around the musky forest floor was slowly creeping around her, bringing with it a foul odor. Decay. Something in the mist was dead._

 _Regina was breathing heavily now. Rapidly. She was growing vividly aware of each and every pebble that dug into her skin. Every splash of mud that dirtied her body. Every spider, mite, roach—whatever insect—that sculled over her bare legs. She closed her frenzied eyes and focused on her erratic breathing. But this hyper-awareness did not absolve. If anything, it grew more intense._

 _She opened her eyes and gave a start. Filling her field of vision completely, was a face. A wrinkled and deformed face. A face that just barely retained semblance of humanity. The left half of it had a grotesque growth. And the right seemed to have been torn off and replaced; stitched up to it was what appeared to be the face of a boar._

 _The face moved so that it was no logger fully occupying her vison. The Cyrcle was surrounding her now. A petrifying kaleidoscope of marred, demonic faces—each ghastly in their own special way. She could see a man with a horn in the middle of his forehead. But it wasn't majestic nor alluring like that of a unicorn. It was putrid, as if someone had gouged a hole in his head and stabbed a cracked and pointed stone in there. Next to him was a woman with tusks and long, dirty, straw-like, grey hair. She didn't seem to have any eyes and if she did, they were so deeply set that she may as well not have them at all. In those crevices lay a film of cobweb. An accessory that adorned a mouth that hitched in a never-ceasing gape. The webs were, in fact, spun all over the woman's face and in her hair. Regina blinked just in time to be spared the sight of a spider crawling out from a hole in the woman's tooth. But somehow, she knew it had happened. Regina squeezed her eyes shut again, this time with more desperation._

 _The Cyrcle moved in even closer, chanting something indistinguishable and in a tongue so foreign and scathing to the ears that it had to have been crafted in the underworld—the only place it had a right to be spoken. The pig man came back into view. This time Regina noticed that he may not be a he at all, but another woman. He or she was shoved aside by a being in a beaten and rusting plague mask. It lifted an arm. The moon glimmered off of something shiny. Regina had only an instant to discern that it was an athame._

 _The weapon fell upon her._

Regina woke with a start, her hand to her chest, she hadn't had that dream in ages. It was still night—the moon high in the sky, and the room was still awashed in black. But she was no longer in that hauntingly familiar forest. She took a deep breath and looked up from where her gaze had been resting, on her knees. In the vivid darkness she could see the curtains fluttering like the specters in her nightmares. She'd forgotten to close the window before bed. She shivered, the room had grown all too chilly as she slept. Pushing down her unease, she stood up and shut the window. She stood at the sill for a moment staring out at the other rooftops. Perhaps she should go check on Henry? She pushed away from the window sill. But she didn't want to disturb him; just because she couldn't sleep, didn't mean she should take the slumber away from him.

She wondered briefly if she should try to get back to sleep. Her bedside clock—reading 2:26—answered yes. But she likely wouldn't be able to catch any more of it even if she tried. Instead she grazed her fingers over the spines of multiple books until she found one to her satisfaction and plucked it off of the shelf.

As quietly as she could, so not to disturb Henry, she made her way downstairs and flipped the lights on. She could only thumb through the book in a haze—reading it but not actually retaining any of the story. She picked out a few words, like 'forest', 'tower', and the name 'Lilian'. Other than that, her mind was elsewhere, still captured by the faint visages of her nightmare. She placed her book on the coffee table and sat in near silence, listening to the faint and rhythmic ticking of her grandfather clock. Restless, she stood up again. She considered getting something to eat, if for no other reason than to give her something to do. Something that required no thought. She decided against it. She instead made her way towards the staircase again. She would quickly check up on Henry.

The stairwell before Regina was encompassed in the same kind of dark that had her pacing around her living room in the first place. She immediately regretted not turning the lights on before going downstairs. But Henry meant more to her than her own fears. She looked deeply into the shadows before forcing her reluctance down. She moved through the darkness with a nagging sense that she was being followed. Every creak of the house, every smack of a branch on the widows sent her heart racing more than it ought to have. She almost called out to Henry. But the very notion was ridiculous. He was supposed to call out to her when he was having nightmares so she could protect him, not the other way around. She was thinking like a little girl. From near the end of the hall she heard a thud. She swallowed down a breath and held it there. Blending into the night just enough to make her squint, was a figure. Her eyes grew wide. The figure approached slowly. Clumsily. A hand reached out and took hold of her own. Regina let out a sharp cry.

"Woah! Sorry mom!"

Regina's hand fell on her chest, over her erratically beating heart. She let out a sigh of relief and took a few moments to regain her composure. "Henry, what are you doing up? I didn't wake you did I?"

"No, I was already awake, couldn't sleep. I heard you go downstairs and I thought I'd join you." She couldn't see it, but she knew he was smiling. "Why are all of the lights off? It's kinda hard to walk when you can't see where you're going?"

"I forgot to turn them on as I was heading downstairs." Regina put an arm over his shoulder.

"Hey, maybe we can watch a movie together. Since we're both up?"

"Or we can try to get to sleep." Regina suggested. "I think that's a better idea, wouldn't you say?"

Henry rolled his eyes. "You know where to find me when you realize that, that's not going to happen." He opened his bedroom door and re-entered. "Night mom."

"Good night." Regina kissed him on the forehead. "Turn the light off?"

"Nah mom, I got it."

"Alright, I'll see you in the morning." Regina pulled his door shut, and with it took the last bit of light that flowed into the hallway. But she didn't feel like she needed it anymore. It wasn't until she was back in bed, with her head on the pillow that she remembered.

It was Emma's turn with Henry.


	2. The Wren and the Magpie

**Sorry for taking so long to update. I had a busy (but fun) week. I decided to try experimenting with present tense with this fic. Let me know which you like more past (the tense of the first chapter) or present (this one).**

 **Niice Potter: Thank you, I'm glad you enjoyed it.**

 **Nymphandora: Thank you so much, that means a lot! Yeah, I've had a hard time finding a horror story that captured my attention on premise. Maybe I just need to click one and start reading lol. I hope I didn't keep you waiting _too_ long. I'm really stoked to hear that you read it that many times!**

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Regina closes her eyes, the horror is growing within her. Part of her desires to walk into Henry's room again, to see if that thing is still there. She feels sick and she can't bring herself to get up. She thinks about her dream, about the athame burying itself in her ribcage. About the blood flowing steadily from the opening it had created. She wants to pick up the phone and call Emma, but she can't bring herself to move. Any movement would give her away, not that the Henry impostor doesn't already know exactly where she is. But the illusion of safety is all that she has. She stares at the ceiling, her breathing heavy. She finds her eyes getting teary, a feeling of venerability—to a degree that she's never felt before—overcomes her. She longs for her sister, or for Emma, or for Snow, or for anyone really. But she is too afraid to even reach for the phone. She visualizes a phantom hand wrapping its hellish fingers around her wrist the minute she sticks it out from under the blanket.

She begins to tremble—she can't seem to stop herself, and hugs herself. She tries shutting her eyes again. But every time she does, she sees one of the monstrosities from her nightmare. So she opens them once again and tries to rationalize. _Henry isn't here, I never talked to him. I imagined it because I'm half-asleep_. She tries convincing herself that she is overworked and simply needs to take the day off tomorrow.

These thoughts provide her no comfort whatsoever, in a world where werewolves and magic and wraiths exist.

She knows what she'd seen.

She knows that it's real.

And that it's just down the hall, wearing Henry's face.

She wants so desperately to get some much-needed sleep but she knows what will happen if she enters the dreamscape again. And somehow, she becomes angry. Angry that her sleeping pattern is being disrupted. She clings to that anger, it's the only thing that is keeping her from breaking down into a helpless, sobbing mess.

She listens to the ticking of her clock and the beats of her own heart.

Regina can't recall having fallen asleep, but she wakes up. She is greeted by a faint ache pounding behind her eyes. She is sprawled out on the floor by her closet. She presses her hand to her forehead and feels a sizable knot. The night before feels almost distant now, like it hadn't even happened to her. For a moment she believes, that it hadn't. She props herself up and glances around the room, light is seeping through the windows. The clock reads 12:31 she is late to pick up Henry, not that he minds a little extra time with Emma. Ignoring the searing pain in her head, she dresses herself and heads for the door.

She feels a strange sense of calm.

"What happened to your head?" Emma asks.

Regina shrugs and takes Henry in her arms.

The real Henry.

She feels a sense of comfort holding him there. Knowing that he hadn't been touched by the same thing she had. She doesn't want to tell him about it, not yet. Instead she nuzzles her cheek atop his head.

"Alright, I guess I'll see you two later then?" Emma askes.

"Of course." Regina replies. She turns to Henry as Emma closes the door. "How was your time with Emma?"

"It's always a blast!" He opts out of telling her about is junk food and video game binge. Instead he tells her about how he and Emma started writing a science fiction novel, "just for fun," he finishes. Regina's warm smile is exactly what he was looking for.

"Well I can't wait to read it, dear." Regina unlocks the door and helps Henry carry in his backpack.

"It's cold in here mom." Henry remarks. "You're from the Enchanted Forest so you might not know, but we have a thing called heaters here."

"Ha. Ha." Regina mutters as she watches Henry dart upstairs. He doesn't stay to make sure that she'll turn the heat on, he already knows that she will. She always does as much as she can to keep him comfortable, even if she herself is feeling rather warm. She goes to the thermostat and checks the room temperature. She furrows her brows, it is set to a comfy 70. As it is always during spring and autumn months. She cranks it up to 75 anyhow.

She looks at her watch and decides that she better start on the dishes. In her distress, she had managed to neglect them last night and that morning. She turns the faucet on and grabs the first plate. She grumbles to herself when she comes to a chunk of food that refuses to come off.

Her ears begin to ring.

She scrubs harder.

Her ears ring louder.

Regina puts the bowl down for a moment, dries her hands, and tugs on her earlobes. Somehow this dulls the ringing.

She picks up the bowl again and fills it with water, she will just let it soak. She picks up a cup and scrubs it clean. She places it neatly back into the cupboard alongside the other glasses. Next she picks up a spoon, and then a fork, and then the plate again. Her scrubbing only seems to be making it worse, the food chunk must have squished beneath the towel, for as she scrubs a reddish-orange color smears around the plate. She discards the towel and picks up a new one.

 _She is standing at the edge of a pond where the water meets the rocks._

 _She hears the chittering chirps of a family of wrens._

 _They all cut off abruptly._

She continues to scrub.

 _The wren falls from the tree and lands at her feet._

 _It has been sliced open._

 _Its wing torn. She can see the bone as it tries to move._

She scrubs harder. The ringing returns.

 _The bird has tiny pebbles and flecks of dirt in it's feathers._

 _She sees the bird give one final twitch._

The water grows hotter.

She continues to scrub, missing the plate entirely.

 _A magpie swoops down to a lower branch. It is chewing on something, it is showing off its victory. It seems to stare at Regina. It unleashes a chirp of its own._

 _The chirp doesn't sound right._

 _It is distorted and guttural. The forest around Regina grows dark and sinister and the magpie lands on her shoulder._

Her skin is growing raw.

Steam rolls off of her hand.

It grows redder.

 _The magpie scuttles over to her ear and wedges its beak in._

"Mom!" Henry shouts. Regina jumps and snatches her hand out of the water. The plate shatters at her feet. She blinks twice, trying to recall what she was doing. The sink is on. She sees the stack of dishes. The pain finally registers. She hisses and dabs a clean napkin to the small hybrid of a burn and a rash.

"Mom, are you okay?" Henry asks. He bends over and picks up the pieces of glass. She's lucky she hadn't gotten around to taking her shoes off.

"Yes, I'm fine." Regina replies. "You startled me is all." She tries to smile at him, but it displays itself all wrong and only seems to make Henry more anxious.

"Are you sure?" He asks.

Regina nods, "I just got a little caught up in my thoughts." The excuse sounds adequate. But she can't find any reason for her mind going completely absent. She looks at the plate. It is sparklingly clean, she puts it away. When she looks back over her shoulder, Henry is gone. Her stomach knots and her fear returns in full.

He comes back a second later with some salve and bandages.

"Thank you, Henry." She quickly washes the blood away, applies the salve, and wraps her hand up. She rinses and puts away the last of the dishes. "So how about you tell me all about your night with Emma?"

"Like I said, we did the same things we do every time." Henry replies. "Well, except for the story writing, that's new."

Regina nods. "What would you like for lunch, dear?"

He thinks of the pizza, ice cream, and candy he ate at Emma's and decides to take a break from it, "can you make spaghetti?"

"I can certainly try." Regina answers. "While it cooks you can show me that new super hero movie."

"It's not new, mom!" Henry declares, as if offended. "It's been out for years." He pulls out his copy of 'The Avengers'.

Regina lifts her hands up, "well forgive me."

"I do." Henry laughs.

With the smell of spaghetti wafting from the kitchen, the sound of cinematic destruction, and Henry sitting next to her—laughing at something Tony Stark said, she can almost forget about the angry rash she had rubbed into the top of her hand. Everything seems so normal.

She turns her head to the window, sitting in the branch nearest to it, is a small Magpie.


	3. An Omen

**Hooray, exposition. Next chapter will be more exciting.**

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Henry comes across an old sleeping back that has been stuffed into his closet for a very long time. He hasn't used it since the one slumber party he and Paige had during the first curse. He smiles as he digs it out and recalls the joy he had felt over his first sleep over. It was in the foyer of Regina's mansion, she didn't even make fuss over the mess of blankets, pillows, and popcorn kernels he and Paige had left.

Regina is a room away, reorganizing the items in her at-home office. She throws away old forms and faxes from a few years back that she finally decides are old and unused enough to throw away. She also discards some paper clips, a dry pen or two, and a few bent staples. She rummages through the drawer beneath and tosses away old newspaper clippings from the days when she and Emma had fought over Henry. The smear article about Emma's arrest has no place being in her desk anymore. Wedged in the very back of the drawer is a small portrait of she and Cora. She crumples that up too. She doesn't even remember bringing that with her from the Enchanted Forest. But then again, she didn't mean for the book to show up either. It just did.

"Mom!"

Regina looks abruptly up and greets Henry with a smile.

"I think we should go camping." Henry suggests.

"Camping?" Regina's brows furrow. "Where did this idea come from?" The idea doesn't bode well with her after all of her vivid dreaming.

"I was cleaning my room—like you asked," he puts in for good measure. "And I found my old sleeping bag. I thought, since we've never been camping before, maybe we can try it. Emma can come too, she likes camping."

Regina can't help but to chuckle, Henry had covered every base. By bring Emma up, he stopped her from arguing that she didn't even know the first thing about camping. Their trip to Neverland certainly hadn't given her any new insight. Regina bites her tongue, "I suppose we can give it a try."

"Great, Emma said she'll be here this afternoon." Henry declares, immediately he tries to bolt off.

"Henry! What did I tell you about asking _me_ first?"

Henry rubs the back of his head, "sorry mom, I got excited." He quickly notes that Emma reminded him to actually tell Regina of his weekend plans.

Regina sighs. "No harm done, I suppose." She mumbles to herself. She looks at her still substantially cluttered desk, as much as she hates to leave it like that, it would have to wait. She withdraws a small suitcase from her closet and begins filling it with a weekend's worth of clothing and hair-care products. A toothbrush, a book, sunblock, and bugspray. She tosses a second can of bug-spray in, deciding that she can't count on Emma to bring her own. She taps her chin, pondering what else to bring. She folds up a sleeping bag of her own and a few pillows. She walks into her garage and shuffles around for a flashlight. It is old but it blinks on, she keeps it on for a moment. After concluding that it could sustain its beam, she grabs some spare batteries and tucks it into one of the side pockets of her suitcase.

In her head she begins compiling a list of rules. At the top of the list she notes, 'no creepy campfire stories.' Though she is certain that Emma will break this one. She enters Henry's room and shoots Henry a round of questions; "did you pack your toothbrush?" "How about your hairbrush?" "An extra set of clothing?"

He answers yes to all of them except the inquiry about his toothbrush. Regina watches him sprit to the bathroom to retrieve it. After a full inspection of his suitcase and a double check on her own, she magics the luggage into the foyer and waits for a view of Emma's bug.

She hears the doorbell at last, but instead of setting eyes on Emma, she catches a glimpse of red hair. "Zelena, what are you doing here?"

"Just thought I'd drop off the things I borrowed. Potion stuff." Zelena hands her a box.

"I never said you could touch my things." Regina mutters.

Zelena deflects the statement. "What's all of this?" She motions to the suitcases.

"Henry, Emma, and I are going camping."

Zelena bursts into a cackle that has grown so familiar and strangely comforting to Regina. "You? Camping? I'll start packing."

Regina knows that there's no stopping Zelena when her mind is set. She can only hope that the woman will pack quicker than Emma. All of this waiting makes her antsy, it gives her time to dwell on her darker thoughts.

 **.oOo.**

Somehow the four managed to squeeze themselves uncomfortably into Emma's bug. "We could have just taken my car." Regina finds herself mumbling for the fifth time. But no one can hear her over Zelena's dreadful karaoke of '1000 Miles'. The worst part is, Regina knows that her half-sister can do better than that. The witch is clearly trying to annoy her fellow passengers. Emma is also making Regina uncomfortable; instead of keeping her eyes on the road she is studying the map Regina told her to look at _before_ they left. Even so, the campsite was just a twenty minute drive away, she shouldn't have needed it at all, especially since this forest is technically property of Storybrooke. Emma slams the breaks and Regina thrusts an arm in front of Henry.

"I'm okay mom." He states.

"Emma!" Regina cries anyhow.

Emma looks back, grinning. "Phew, almost missed the turn."

Regina realizes that Zelena hadn't even missed a beat in her song. Once again, she is the only one displaying concern. Perhaps she needs to simmer down and just take things as they come. But as the pull into the nearly desolate campground she can't help but to feel a sense of foreboding.

The place itself doesn't look shady, on the contrary it looks inviting. Very picturesque. The trees, from where she sits, seem a bit too densely packed. She wonders how well their tent will fit. The tree line is still lush with leaves. Most of them are a vibrant green but some are starting to go yellow and orange.

Henry steps out of the car first and looks up at the sky, his arms out-stretched. He beams from ear to ear. Regina's unease melts away. She steps out of the car; her feet grind the gravel beneath them and elicit a scraping-crunching noise. She is happy to be free of that confined space. The crispy late August air is a stark but heavenly contrast to the odor of fast-food that clung to Emma's bug. Milkweed, harebell, and pine resin are the heaviest scents and each greet her nose warmly. She can hear cicadas buzzing among rustling leaves, chittering squirrels, and various bird calls. It is nothing like her nightmare. She spies a well-used wooden path leading into the forest.

Zelena pulls out the map of the campground. "We're reserved for site 319."

"Looks like we got the lakeside site." Emma points out.

Regina allows them to take the lead. She trails alongside Henry taking in the sights and sounds of the forest. Her hand falls upon one of the tree trunks as she brushes passed.

"It's beautiful out here." Henry remarks. "We should have done this a while ago."

Regina is about to silently agree, when a bug into her face. She bats it away and keeps moving until they finally reach their campsite. Emma finds a spot beneath a wide bur oak to pitch the tent. Before Emma can even take her hammer out to nail it in place, Regina waves her hand and the tent springs into place. With it the pins drive themselves into the ground and hold the tent up. "You're welcome dear."

"Can we add a no magic rule to your list?" Emma asks. "I'd like to do this the traditional way."

Regina sighs, "I suppose. But we're using magic if it's necessary." She seats herself upon the trunk of a fallen tree, where she is joined by one of the forest's many critters.

"Looks like you have a new friend." Henry laughs.

"You and Snow have more in common than you think." Zelena pesters. "Maybe soon you'll have a few chipmunks to help us gather firewood."

Regina rolls her eyes. The magpie scuttles closer to her, undeterred by her shooing.


	4. Black Sludge, Forever Run

_Her name rustled through the dawn in a hoarse wheeze. It seemed to be called from in all directions. This time she was in a swamp. It was early morning and only a few rays of sun bled through hazy gray clouds. The murk and slime swirling around her ankles. The water reeks of the same foul odor as the mist had. It assaulted her nose mercilessly. She tried to move walk, but the bog seemed to have her feet suctioned into the mud. At last she pried herself free of the thick sludge, but the same velocity that had freed her, had sent her sprawling face first into the bog goop. She heaved herself up and coughed up a bile of mud and tiny pebbles. It dripped down her chin, bringing her hand up to wipe it away only served to smear it. Somehow she knew something was coming for her, it scuttled deep beneath the surface. She expected it to tug her by the ankle beneath the surface. Ignoring the grime on coating her face she began a stumbling run. The rocks beneath the stagnant water shredded her heels and allowed the swamp to ebb into her body. Sheer revulsion alone had her scoping out land…a bounder…a tree, anything to get her open soars out of that vile water._

 _She saw him then, out of the corner of her eye. That beaten plague mask—she can now identify the bird it was modeled after. He wasn't waiting for her in the depths. No, he was lurking behind a tree. Something about his lack of subtlety unsettled her even more. In an instant he is gone, but she could see other hooded figures emerging from behind the trees._

 _They don't surround her, they don't even try._

 _She moved herself even faster—if she could just put some distance between herself and them…_

 _The rocks were growing sharper and she began to fear the state of her feet. Her stomach lurched and the need to vomit hits her horrifically. She fought the feeling, having no time for it. Knowing well that it was a bad idea, she looked back. The members of the Cyrcle had grown distant but they are fully away from the trees and exposed, gathered more closely where the swamp murk was particularly dense. Regina was breathless by the time she felt as if she'd put enough distance between she and the Cyrcle. She leaned herself against the tree, but only for a moment because she noticed a peculiar rippling beneath the waves. She began her sprint all over again. It didn't help her nauseous feeling. All of her movements only seemed to be making the sensation come on stronger. Everything that brushed against her ankles had her skin crawling. She pictured tentacles and bony fingers. Leeches and the bloated, water-logged hands of the pig-faced being._

 _At last the water grew shallow, Regina stepped onto the slimy sand like someone who'd been stranded at sea for months. Her feet were stinging madly so she sat down to assess the damage. Regina saw what appeared to be leech-like bodies wriggling into the broken skin of her heels. With a muffled cry she yanked each one out and tossed them back into the water. She was a mess, mud clung to her hair and seemed to plaster every inch of her body. She stood up and tried to brush it off, but it was caked on so thickly. The sickly feeling, Regina realized, had not subsided. And when the putrid scent of the sludge on her skin finally reached her nose, she doubled over, unable to hold it back any longer._

 _Her mouth was filled with a thick black ooze with the consistency of the rotten apple Emma had once crushed in her nightmares so long ago. It ran down her chin and began collecting in a small pool below her. Hunched completely over, on her hands and knees, she chokes up more of the stuff—anything to dispel it from her body. But the more of this black ooze she coughed up, the more it filled her stomach, threatening to drown her from within. Her sides ached and her throat burned, and still the ooze spilled out from between her lips. She couldn't seem to expel it fast enough. So it dripped from her nose and leaked from her ears. She swore she could feel it building up behind her eyes. And she screams—silently begging it to stop, begging for mercy._

 _She just barely noticed the figures emerging from behind various trees. The thing in the plague mask came to stand before her, doing nothing._

 _Nothing but observing._

 _She realizes now what had happened. They wanted her to run. But they didn't want to catch her. No, they wanted her to tear up her skin so that the swamp could get in and destroy her for them. The web-infested woman cocked her head as if she was watching the most fascinating spectacle she'd ever seen. The pseudo-man in the plague mask cupped Regina's chin in his palm and turned her head up so she could look him in the face._

Regina woke up unable to breathe, her heart racing much faster than ever. She could still see his face, at first looming over her. But then, by some indescribable movement, at the edge of the tree line. She squeezed her eyes shut as firmly as she could manage and waited until she could no longer sense the creature's ungodly aura. She scanned the dark spaces between the trees, but couldn't find any trace of that lurid thing. Her head was spinning with so much terror she couldn't think straight. She could only listen to a choir of crickets, toad croaks, and owl hoots—sounds that she would have found soothing if she were in her own back yard.

In that moment she longed for her mansion, much safer by comparison. Even if her nightmares had begun within its walls. At least it had walls.

Home. She wanted home. But she—with Emma, Henry, and Zelena—over roasting smores, agreed that they would spend the entire week camping. Initially Emma was pushing for two weeks and Regina was pushing for two days. But they decided that Henry would enjoy the last of his summer vacation out in nature and Regina would take her much needed vacation week. _Some vacation_ , Regina grumbled to herself. She was finally beginning to get it together. She heard a noise, the rustle of cloth on cloth. She looked over and observed Henry sleeping soundly between she and Emma. Zelena, as agreed since they were sleeping outside of their tent, lay on the other side of Regina. With that she regained her composure more or less completely. She remembered her magic, remembered her ability to fight. She was not in a swamp leaking unidentified fluid, she was in a forest recovering from the ridiculous amount of smores Emma insisted she eat. She mustered up a tired smile at the absurdity of it all. "I'll have a story to tell in the morning." She muttered aloud. _Or for when Swan breaks my no scary campfire stories rule,_ she added silently.

She shuffled closer to Henry and put an arm over him. Perhaps she could work a little more sleep in before the sun gets to rising. She had at least an hour more. She nuzzled her head atop Henry and falls back asleep, blissfully unaware of the branch the snapped by her head and the shadow that loomed over her.


	5. The Obsidian Blackthorn

**You guys have probably noticed that I shifted the tense again. On a different website, others were saying that past tense helped them get into the story better. That and it's easier for me to write. So from here on out this fic will be in present tense.**

 **GQ01: Probably because it got buried under all of my other fics...and the other great fics out there lol. I'm glad you like it. And I'm trying to finish it for sure. But at the same time I'm trying to finish another one and part take in Swan Queen week. But I'll try to update somewhat regularly. Thanks for the review!**

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"Regina, that's one helluva bug bite." Emma remarked as she turned Regina's hand over and dabbed that the raised red mark with an alcohol wipe. The woman hissed at the sting of it.

"I knew I should have slept in the tent." Regina grumbled and studied the bite. "Bug bite? These things were eating me alive." She noticed three more smaller bumps around the same area. To think she had caked on the bug spray too. "You get any?" She asked Zelena, scratching at the bumps.

"One or two, on my shins." Zelena frowned.

At least Henry had a mosquito free night. He, as a matter of fact, seemed to enjoy the bugs—he had taken to photographing dragonflies on his phone. The insects darted in and out of Regina's view on delicate prismic wings.

"You up for a swim, Gina?" Emma called. Upon looking in her general direction Regina realized that Swan was already hip deep in the lake.

"I think I'll pass." Regina said, thinking of the leeches in her dream. That aspect of her night terror was more than possible in reality and she didn't want to add leech sucking to her assortment of bug bites.

"Aww, why not?" Emma askes.

"I am suddenly allergic to agley." Regina tried.

"Yeah, okay." Emma rolled her eyes. "Hey Zelena, did you know that your sister is allergic to agley?" When Zelena shook her head she turned to Henry. "How about you kid, did you know that?"

"It's too dirty." Regina declared. "And who knows what's swimming with you. Could be snakes, leeches, I don't know. And fish are gross too, they nibble on your toes."

"Is that an assumption or a memory? Remind me to never move out to the country with you." Emma laughed.

"Don't worry, I never had any plans to move to the country." Regina said, she watched Emma swim back to the shore.

"You're at least coming hiking with us, right?" Henry asked.

"I suppose I will." Regina reluctantly agreed. "But only because _you_ asked." She noticed Emma shaking herself off like a wet dog. "You didn't even bring a towel did you, dear?"

"Nope, didn't think of it." Emma confessed as the group walked towards the hiking trail. Zelena had found herself a nice branch that reached chest level in height. At least one of them looked like they knew what they were doing.

"Lead the way." Regina motioned for someone to take the lead. Zelena stepped forward and with her branch shoved some branches and vines aside. The sun beat down through the trees with an intensity Regina knew was going to cause her some strife somewhere down the trail. But for now the sun rays were mostly pleasant as they fell over her face.

Somewhere near the halfway point, it dawned up on Regina that—in her haste to arm herself and Henry against bugs—she had forgotten to put on sunscreen. She sighed, resigning to the notion that she'd have sunburns on top of the mosquito bites.

"Woah, look at that!" Henry pointed in between the trees.

Following his finger, Regina could view the expanse of the river, decorated by the glimmer of sun on its miniature lapping waves. And across the way rose what appeared to be elegant ruins of some sort. She had to admit that she was eager for a closer look. A branch snapping behind them pulled Regina's attention away from the ruins. She jumped and frantically searched the forest behind her. She could clearly see a figure hunched over. Her body went rigid.

Emma put a hand on her shoulder and laughed, "it's just a deer."

"What do you think is out there?" Zelena asked. "Lions, tigers, and bears?"

"Oh my." Emma finished.

"In my defense." Regina started, "I had a very unsettling dream last night." She was about to elaborate when Emma said the thing she had been dreading.

"Save it for our scary campfire story hour!"

"I thought I said that we weren't having one of those." Regina grumbled.

"We all took a vote. Three to one—we're telling scary stories." Zelena declared.

"Don't worry mom. You'll have me. And besides you went to the underworld, I think you'll be okay." Henry reassured.

"Let's just get to the ruins, and find some shade." She changed the subject, fanning herself for emphasis.

Zelena moved back to the front of the group, "it shouldn't be too far from here. I wonder if there's an off-trail shortcut."

Part of Regina wanted to protest the idea, the same part of her that feared the shadows darting in and out of the tree line. The more superstitious part of her. The logically driven side just wanted to cool off and found that it was a much safer idea to actually get to the shade of the ruins as quickly as possible. Even with the canopy coverage, the end-of-summer heat was baking the forest floor. Despite warnings against leaving the trail, Regina took Henry's hand and followed her sister and Emma. "If we run into any foxes, I swear."

"Relax, they probably just don't want us going off the trail because people have gotten lost. But I think we can find our way back to the campground just fine. We just have to have good landmarks." Emma shrugged. "Besides this looks like another trail to me."

Emma had a point, however beat up and unused, they were following a trail of some sort. An hour or so in, Regina found herself thankful that they decided to use it. Her feet were throbbing unpleasantly and are legs were growing tired. She could also feel a sun burn starting to color her cheeks. The amount of times she had swatted a bug away from her had become uncountable and she found herself slapping another off of her arm. Thinking of nothing but her aching feet she finally requested, "I think I need to take a break."

"But we're almost there, Gina." Emma pointed out.

Breathless from the heat, Regina waved her on. She untied her shoes. "I'll catch up."

"Are you sure?" Emma asked. "You were just talking about your creepy dreams and what not."

"I'll be fine." Regina assured her, she pulled a water bottle from the purse Emma had called impractical. "You guys go on, I'll be there in a few moments." She insisted.

"Alright, but if you're not caught up in fifteen minutes we'll have to come looking for you."

"I won't take that long, dear." She was already scoping out a place to sit. She watched Emma take off, her hiking boots crunching on gravel and twig. She continued staring until Emma became a distant figure. Finally Regina came upon a stump that looked remotely free of moss and fungi. She brushed it off and sat down.

She removed her hiking boots. She sighed, happy to give her feet some freedom, she could already feel the ache dulling. Just when completely comfort returned, she spotted something that had her lacing her boots up and on her feet again. Whatever it was gleamed brightly near the shadow of a fallen tree. She squinted to get a better view, which didn't help any. No matter, she made her way over to the shiny object. From this distance she could see that whatever it was, was obscured by a hefty cover of dirt, moss, twigs, and other forest debris. She wanted to uncover this treasure more than she didn't want to dirty her hands. So with a brief moment of hesitation, she dipped her hands into the dirt and pried it free from its earthly prison. Once the trinket was safely in Regina's palm, she brushed the remaining muck off of its surface.

A pendant.

A very old pendant with a solid obsidian make and a silver blackthorn insignia. She traced her pointer over the symbol. Embedded in at the center of each flower were tiny onyxes. With time and nature, a few of the onyxes had become lost to the forest. And the sapphires meant to depict the blackthorn berries have all either cracked or shattered completely, also lost to the forest. She turned it over in her hand, looking for anything that might be etched into the back. But it was otherwise smooth. She turned it face up again. Somehow the pendant seemed familiar, she knew that she had seen it before, but couldn't place where. She slipped it into her pocket, took another drink from her water bottle, and hustled to catch up with Emma, Henry, and Zelena.


	6. The Roach in the Resin

The throbbing from their hike hadn't let up, Regina's feet ached like nothing else. But she would weather it out, she would have plenty of time to rest her feet soon enough for the ruins loomed just ahead. Yet, as they drew nearer she felt more and more uneasiness. The ruins on this hill in particular weren't nearly as big as they looked from a distance. They consisted of only a few battered pillars surrounding some sort of cracked alter, that had been ravaged by an assortment of vines and weeds. The pillars—or what was left of them—lined the path to an equally beaten stony church. The church, with its shattered windows, missing right wall, and gaunt appearance gave off no essence of holiness. It hadn't even a cross, but instead a hideous gargoyle with a piggy face, uncannily resembling the creature that haunted her mind. But was a whole pig head, however unsettling that was, at least it wasn't stitched onto a human face. She shivered and contemplated whether or not it was a church of the light at all. The carvings and symbols scratched into the building—likely by some disturbed teens—didn't help its case any. She couldn't tell which symbols and Latin phrases were on the church when it was built from which were defaced there.

"What are you waiting for?" Zelena asked. With that, Regina realized that she had come to a complete halt to gape at this hollow monstrosity of a building. She hustled, despite protests from her feet, to catch up. From this closeness, she noticed now that the alter had faces carved into it. Each one of the faces was twisted into its own unique expression of agony.

The interior of the ruins proved to be every bit as creepy as the exterior let on. The plants had managed to push through some cracks and crawl over the walls. Regina dared to brush them away, only to uncover a rough textured painting of a ghoulish woman stuffing something red and dripping into her mouth. She wondered who would paint such a thing. She was never a particularly religious woman, but even she made a swift gesture to ward off dark forces. She let the vines fall back over the painting and moved to take in a different aspect of the place. There had to be something redeeming about the place…the ancient crystal candle holders fastened into the wall were rather appealing—despite having an eerie coverage of spider web and dust. But everything else sent her spine shivering. She almost immediately regretted listening to her 'logical' side. Sure the ruins relieved her of the merciless heat, but the chill they gave off was much to penetrating. Goosebumps pricked her skin as she took in the unsettling architecture.

And Emma was already wanting to explore the bigger ruins a top the neighboring hill.

She watched Henry comb through some draws. "This place is creepy." He said over his shoulder to Regina.

"I know that, dear." She agreed. "You really shouldn't be going through those, what if there's a…" A juicy looking wolf spider darted out and dashed into a crack. Henry jolted back but after gathering his bearings, got back to his search, this time with more caution.

"Look at this." Emma points. "It looks like something you'd keep in your vault."

Regina inspected the artifact, it was a perfectly smooth stone the size of her palm. Set in its center was what looked like dried resin. She didn't cringe until she noticed the roach trapped beneath. She shoved it back into Emma's arms, "that is hideous, I would never keep that in my vault."

"I thought it was kind of cute." Zelena tapped the encased roach.

Regina shoved her fears aside and took a seat in one of the stone pews that remained. She tugged off her hiking boots and was disgusted to see the reason for her foot pains. Coupled with the ache of a long hike, somehow one of the leeches had crawled into her boot and had itself burrowed comfortably in her heel. She quickly plucked the parasite and stomped on it with her un-ailed foot. If she had been smart she would have demanded a trip home right then and there. But she couldn't stand the thought of walking all the way back again.

Even if they did head back it'd likely be dark by then and she had no desire to trek an unfamiliar forest at night. If she was being honest, she didn't even fancy going out into the Enchanted Forest at night if she could help it. She gave the place another all over scope and bit her lip.

Henry was already off taking photos and Zelena and Emma were occupying themselves with snooping about the place. Apparently, she was alone in thinking that the place had an aura of foreboding.

.oOo.

Nightfall only wound her fear up to a new pitch.

At this point, Regina didn't know which prospect scared her more, spending a night in those ruins with no tent nor any of her belongings or trying to make their way back to the campground in forest darkness. She stole another glance around the ruins and shuddered. Somehow the unfamiliarity of the forest seemed less daunting. But Emma soon had a fire roaring right in the center of the structure, where it smoldered and cast strange shadows about the ruins. "I'd say that right about now is a good time for some spooky campfire stories." Emma suggested with a mischievous grin.

Regina lingered at the edge of the fire. All of Emma's spooky stories lost their effect to the sense of impending danger the ruins emitted. But only she seemed to pick up on it. She wondered why that was the case. The night had a strange chill and the ruins themselves seemed to be part of the problem. She felt for the pendant she had stashed away.

"You okay, mom?" Henry finally asked. She realizes then, that Henry hadn't spoken to her since rummaging through the draws. The way he said it to her too, was inexplicably odd. He seemed to sense something in her, and she wondered if perhaps, her own paranoia was making her appear cold and unapproachable.

She furrows her brows but answers anyways, "yes, dear. I'm fine." She tried to smile and sound cheerful, but her reply came just quickly enough to let everyone know that there was a problem.

"Are our stories too much for you?" Zelena poked.

"To be frank, I haven't even been paying attention to them." Regina confessed. "This place is just…" She trailed off, unable to put what was bothering her into words. So maybe it was all just nonsense then. If she couldn't even describe what was bringing her fear, then why should she fear it at all.

"It sounds like you have a pretty interesting story." Emma stated. "Have a marshmallow and share it." She smiled.

Putting off the feeling of dread for just a few moments, Regina relayed the details of the dreams she had been having since before the trip. "It's been a while since I've had a good sleep." She twirled her marshmallow around in the flames, watching it intensely as if it were a thing to be fascinated by. She'd rather stare at a blackening marshmallow than the shapes darting across the ruins.

"Wow that was one helluva campfire story." Emma shuddered. "You win, no more creepy stories for us, right kid?"

"Yeah, let's talk about something else." Henry agreed.

"We can talk about how my sister just wasted a perfectly good marshmallow."

Their friendly banter continued as if she hadn't spoken at all. In a way Regina was grateful, it meant that she wouldn't have to dwell on the nightmares any longer. But what came in place of that was much worse. Between the voices of Emma, Henry, and Zelena, she swore that she could hear another. A faint undertone laying beneath the conversation she was supposed to be hearing. She strained her ears to hear it, but could only seem to pick up on Henry's somewhat crude joke. Her skin prickled as the fire threw another shadow over the walls. Or perhaps the wall had thrown a shadow at the fire, for it sputtered and died.

"I swear it was roaring just a second ago." Emma laughed. "I think my camping skills are getting a bit rusty, if I can't keep a fire going."

But Regina found it to be no laughing matter. She held out for a few minutes, listening to them joke about Emma's weak campfire, before the overwhelming sense that something foul was lurking finally took over. They had to get out of there now.

She had to get out of there now.

She caught it in the air, the rotten perfume of her night terrors. It crept into the ruins without a warning, and somehow the others still seemed oblivious. Maybe the smell of smoke was too pungent.

Regina felt awful doing it but with a hint of awkwardness she requested that Emma stop messing with the fire and tell Zelena and Henry that they were leaving.

"Regina, we can't just wander around the forest this late. Do you think that we'll even be able to find our trail? Look at it out there." Emma motioned to the forest.

She was reminded again of the terror the tree line had to offer; a blanket of dark, vines with ankle biting thorns, and a full dress of leaves for things of horror to hide in, among other things. And the decay, that vile smell seemed to be seeping from it, or maybe from the ground itself. The ruins themselves seemed almost safe now. Inviting almost. Comforting.

That's when she knew with certainty that they needed to leave. Instead a disorienting ringing chimed in her ears, sending her back into a sitting position. She could hear Emma, but her voice was faint background noise to the shrill ringing. In her disorientation, she took in the sight of the resin encased roach crawling from its prison.

A rat skittered from the corner of the ruins and out into the darkness.

The ringing intensified.

Emma tossed something into the fire.

Something in the fire reached out in Regina's direction.

The ringing had become brain crippling.

To the left Henry prodded the fire with a stick.

The roach landed on Zelena. Regina felt as if her ears were going to burst as the ringing swelled even louder. Just as her brain seemed to be succumbing to the harsh frequency, it died in a pop, giving way to a profuse pounding in her head. The pounding was no better, the pain that came with it kept her from concentrating on the mouth of the forest. Maybe if she'd been able, she wouldn't have grabbed Henry and made a run in its direction.


	7. Hylophobia

**Ellen: Thank you very much, I hope that this chapter is able to keep the mood just as well or better.**

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At first, all Regina could feel was relief. She and Henry were free from that oppressive dark church and the shadow cast over it by dark monolith on the neighboring hill. But she maintained her pace, full speed. They couldn't catch them if they kept running. The illusion of safety was all she had. Her feet hurt like hell, throbbing relentlessly, driving her to the point of madness. At last she could endure no more and she brought them to a stop. She was breathing hard but she believed that she'd put enough distance between them.

She gave the forest a quick look around, she recognized nothing at all. Each and every tree looked exactly the same as the next; all of them way too packed together with thick trunks and blackened bark. Some of them—the ones Regina took a special care to avoid—wept insects from the cracks and notches in their wood. Her head was still pounding and the trees had her growing more disoriented. She swore that she could see gaunt and mangled hands reaching out from the holes in the trees. She couldn't help it, she screamed out and pulled Henry away from the tree. When she turned around the twisted arms were gone.

She saw Henry's face in the lightning. He looked confused and perhaps angry.

"What are you doing mom? Let me go!" Henry hollered the relief right out of her. "I don't want to be out here so late."

"I—I was trying to…" Regina sputtered. She let the sentence die on her tongue. In her fearful haste she'd left Emma and Zelena behind. "We'll go back for them." She finished instead.

"No!" Henry yelled. "We're not going anywhere until you tell me what's wrong with you." The words stung.

"This forest is what's wrong with me." Regina confessed. She took his hand and squeezed it in a manner that she hoped expressed affection.

Henry flinched and tugged out of her grasp. "Get away from me!"

Regina peered between the shadows again. Her stomach fluttered with anxiety. "You have to come with me." Henry's only response was a cold stare. She hated speaking to him so firmly, but they had to leave. Her heart pounded as something flickered in her peripheral vision. "Now, Henry."

Henry shoved Regina away. "I said, stay away from me." He repeated.

Regina cringed, her face contorting in both sadness and desperation. "Henry, please, I _need_ you. I can't do this without you. I don't want them to hurt you."

Without so much as a warning, Henry made a frenzied dash into the complete darkness of the thickets. "Henry!" She screamed, her voice echoing through the night air. God knows, what her cry had attracted. A sense of pure dread prickled every fiber of her being. The source of it was unclear. She didn't know what horrified her more; Henry alone out there—because of her no less—or being alone where she stood.

With a twinge of relief, she decided that Henry was probably better off without the darkness she seemed to be a beacon to. She was ready to fall to her knees and weep, when a low and guttural howl resounded off of the trees. It seemed to come from all around, but at the same time, from right next to her. She sprung to her feet, completely unsure of where to go. There really was nowhere for her to run. She was in their world…their hunting ground.

She thought to follow Henry, but she didn't want to draw attention to him. He was safer without her. Instead she tried to retrace her steps and make her way back to the ruins. She promised Henry that she'd find Emma and Zelena, perhaps he would let her protect him if they were around. Having no sense of direction and nothing else to do, Regina made her way back in the direction of the ruins so she could grab the other two and hopefully find Henry and their campsite. The night was hauntingly quiet save for the helpless cry of an owl. Her footsteps even seemed oddly quiet. With each step the owl seemed to hoot louder. Though, as she walked on, even that sound died out—in one instant it was cooing its mournful wail and in the same instant it was cut short. She wrapped her arms around herself and shuddered. The forest doesn't seem quite right. It looks the same but feels uncanny. She can't help but feel like she's entered another realm, some darker parallel realm hidden deep within the pocket of the universe.

And she was hungry. Hungry and cold. Her feet were hurting again on top of it all, so without thinking she took her shoes off. Somewhere within her mind, that seemed like the logical thing to do. From that same place in her mind, she pictured more leeches withering about in her hiking boots. Yes, taking them off would make the walk more bearable.

She peeled them off and left the in the middle of the forest floor and carried on. An inexplicable combination of relief and joy fogging her mind. She staggered along the trail, vaguely aware of where she was. For once, the creeping smell of rot was lost on her. With it came a magpie that landed on Regina's shoulder. She shook it off only to have it come back. She tried it twice more, each time it sunk its claws deeper into her flesh. So she carried on, ignoring it to the best of her ability. Deep down she knew it was wrong it was all so wrong. But she kept walking on.

In the gossamer light of the moon, Regina could make it out now—in the distance—the outline of the ruins and the monolith on the hill. A fine trail of blood was leaking down her back and her feet were absolute disasters. The walk had become really had become more bearable. So bearable in fact, that she didn't notice the rocks that had torn her soles open and the thorns and twigs and pebbles that embedded themselves into her heels. By the time she stumbled up to the ruins her feet were weeping blood.

She stood in the opening of the church, face to face with a figure that was hunched in the corner, it's body jerking and seizing. She couldn't see a face but she sensed an evil to match that of the Dark One's. Something fell from the magpie's beak, it glinted in the moon beams.

The sound caught the attention of the shadow thing. It looked up at her.

Regina loomed in the doorway—seething with a rage she hadn't felt in a long time—her body silhouetted by the darkness, save for a faint silvery outline. She stared down at the object.

It was time to fight back.

She reached down and picked it up.


	8. Nyctohylophobia

**SoraSun: Thank you. :D**

 **fandomlovr: Ask and you shall receive. I've been meaning to type a chapter this week. I must admit that you reminded me not to blow it off again.**

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Blood dripped down from the hilt of the knife, intermingling with the lacerations on her own feet. It spattered the walls, the floor, and even managed to drip into the cracks in the wall where it trailed down and branched out, giving the place its own set of veins. Regina shuddered, she could almost imagine the place as a living entity. She looked at her hands realizing that they were a crimson, sticky mess. They reminded her of when she was young and helped one of the cooks mash a bowl of pomegranate with her bare hands. Her mother wasn't pleased to see her elaborate silk dress so stained up. In present, Regina wasn't too thrilled to have made a mess of her new hiking clothes.

Nearly tripping over the thing she'd just killed, she faltered out of the dastardly church. The magpie was waiting for her but she didn't pay it any mine, she felt too weak and spent. She needed to rest. But she had to find Emma and Zelena. Most of all she had to find Henry. Perhaps Emma had taken refuge near the monolith. She took a moment to rest by the alter, propping herself up against the pillar. She looked up at the night sky. It seemed weird to her—she realized with a lurching feeling in her stomach, what was wrong with it. The sky all around was full of stars, an endless sparkling field of them…except for the sky above the ruins. It was null, a horrid empty void. Only a place that's seen the work of the most heinous kind of black magic ebb off a star-killing energy like that. She pushed herself away from the pillar, leaving a bloody smear where her hand had been.

Looking up at the hill was a mistake. She noticed what it held. The monolith wasn't so alone after all; scattered around it were a few slabs of ancient cracking rock and wood. The place was a miniature necropolis. She thought of Dargavs, she'd read about it in some travel magazine and wondered why they'd ever include such an eerie destination. The new knowledge made the hill that much more daunting. She hiked up the hillside any how, stumbling every now and again when the pain in her tattered feet seared up with a particular intensity. When she made it nearly to the top of the hill it became too much to bare, she finally collapsed. She clawed her way up the rest of the way like some kind of cadaver. Unable to take any more of this torture, and with nothing else to do, she began to weep. She wept for her physical pain and for her mind, which—lord in heaven—she didn't know what to think of anymore. What had she done to her feet and why oh why did she think it was a good idea to take off those boots? Where had her mind gone and when did it leave her? She clutched her head and curled herself into a meek ball. She knew she had done some vile things, but nothing that warranted whatever this was.

"Regina?"

Her heart leapt, but for the first time in a while, it was a leap of happiness as opposed to fear. She recognized that voice. So she looked up with sad eyes, hoping that she didn't look too pathetic.

"What did you do? Where's Henry?"

"In the forest." She flinched at her own words, feeling guilty and foolish all at once. Because of she and her irrational fear, Henry was all alone in the woods. But…she had seen the shadow in the church, she was wearing its blood…

She repressed that thought, exchanging it for a more logical and easier one—that she had been imagining it. "Where's my sister?"

"Last time I saw her she was in the church, but I think she went to go look for you and Henry too. I'm not sure, she took too long and I decided to go after you guys right after you left." Emma shrugged. "You're a lot faster than I thought." Her lips twitched. Regina couldn't tell if she was angry or worried or both.

Regina pushed herself up. "We have to find Henry."

"I don't think so, you're going to take a break and tell me what's been going on. You've been acting weird this whole trip."

"But Henry—"

Emma cut her off, "Zelena will find him." Knowing that Regina would scoff at the answer, she added, "and we will look for him too…after you tell me what's going on." She looked at Regina's array of injuries. "Or at least, after we take care of you." She took a seat next to Regina and lifted her ankle to inspect it. "Oh God, Regina. This is…" she trailed off. "I don't know what this is. But it's bad."

Regina swallowed, tears welling in her eyes once more. She felt like a child again. A really impulsive and reckless child. Forgetting about the spatter on it, she ran a shaking hand through her hair.

"I'm going to go grab the first aid kit." Emma said and then to herself muttered, "thank God we decided to bring it on our walk." She turned towards the church.

Regina extended her hand. "Wait. Emma." Her voice came out as small and helpless as she'd expected it to. "Please don't leave me alone."

"It'll only be a second. I'm pretty sure that the 'scary, powerful Evil Queen' can handle a spooky hillside." Emma shot her a reassuring smile.

Regina did her best to return it, but the rising anxiety in her chest tainted it. She was teetering on the edge of some kind of panic attack and she knew it.

She watched Emma trek down the hill, a lonely form in the moonlight. She, herself, was alone now…well not completely. The magpie still lurked a few strides away from her. She was just regaining some composure when she remembered the terror in the church.

"Emma!" She hollered, hoping that the woman hadn't yet made it to there. She hoisted herself into a standing position. "Emma!" She shouted again as she clumsily made her way down the hill. Her mind was racing again, trying to recall what the shadow had looked like. Was it the pig-woman? The one with the spiders? Was it one she hadn't seen yet? She hoped it wasn't the thing in the plague mask, surely that thing would have gotten back up. In which case, it couldn't be, if it was she'd be already dead.

.oOo.

Emma sighed, this was turning out to be one helluva trip and she would be lying to herself if she said Regina wasn't freaking her out just a little. The woman's paranoia was spreading like something to be contracted. She couldn't blame Henry in the slightest for bolting. All the same, she felt horrible for Regina. Horrible and responsible—Regina had only been dropping hints that she had a wicked case of hylophobia since the word 'camping' was first mentioned. Of course, the mayor was too proud to ever vocalize it out right.

Before entering the church, Emma withdrew her flashlight from her pocket and flicked the switch. The light sputtered on, but beamed bright as ever. "Oh, God." She exclaimed and quickly pulled her collar up to her nose. The stench of decay hit her with an unexpected force. If an animal had died in there, it sure took its time to let her know. She swept the flashlight around the room, looking for the draw that she'd set her pack on. She carefully navigated the room, so as to not trip over the pews or any of the crumbling bits. Her foot came down on something slippery, she scrunched her eyebrows and brought the flashlight's ray downward.

Blood. Indisputably, blood. And a whole trail of it too. She followed its path with her beam.

"Fuck!" She quickly fumbled to turn the flashlight off, so she wouldn't have to look at it anymore. Without another thought she sprinted from the church, her objective forgotten, replaced with only one goal—find Henry. Fast.

.oOo.

Emma had left her. Or Emma had been taken. She didn't know which notion ate at her heart more. The church was quiet. All she could hear was the steady woosh of the draft and the sound of the magpie's talons clicking over the cement and she wanted it to stop. She _needed_ it to stop. But when she reached over end its noise, it flapped out of her arm span. Maybe she shouldn't attack it, maybe it was there to help her. She reached out again, this time with open arms. Just like it had before she'd fought the shadow creature, the magpie disappeared. Defeated, she walked back out of the church. Regina knew that her feet couldn't sustain much more damage, but she was determined to find Henry.

The forest poked and prodded her soles. Pine needles buried themselves in her exposed arms. And she could pick out absolutely nothing familiar about the forest—not that she could see it very well anyhow between the mist and the darkness. Regina had to have walked further than she thought, for she had arrived at the lake. The lake! Regina felt a new sense of hope, maybe Henry had found it and found their camp! Her hope vanished at the sight of the path. Rather, what was blocking it. She wished that it was being blocked by a tumble of fallen trees or something of the sort. Instead, there was an impassable line of specters all joined hand in hand. The pig woman was among them. Next to her was a fleshy woman with skin like melting wax and a face with features that seem to ooze onto one another. The folds of mushy skin flapped in the breeze. A new hellish vision to add to the growing collection in Regina's memory bank. The others in the parade of demons weren't much better. One had a hacked off arm, that was replaced by an ever-wiggling cluster of leeches. Another proudly displayed a mouth split to the ear and filled with pulsing tumors. They were all different in their own gory way. But they all had one thing in common.

They were smiling at Regina. Smiling at her as if they were proud of her.

She recoiled and took a few large, instinctive steps back. She had no choice, she had to cross the lake. She looked it the murky water, no doubt it would come to be at least level with her chest. She was shaking again, and badly at that. She fell away from the river and slumped behind the tree, trying with all of her soul to convince herself to cross the water. She came to conclude, despairingly, that even if she did work up the courage to do so, she'd never make it across the lake. Not as drained as she was, she'd be too weak to fight the current. They knew it too. She accepted defeat, and hoped that Henry had made it across. But something told her that he hadn't, that they'd been there since before he'd darted off.

She followed the river in the opposite direction, taking special care to not look behind her at the blockade of phantoms. Instead she focused on the blackthorn pendant thumping softly against her chest. It seemed like it had been weeks since she'd found it. She walked for hours and still the sun refused to come up. Not even the slightest hint of dawn broke through the canopy. Regina kept her pace, wearing her own feet down like a pair of old shoes. Despite keeping a straight line, she felt like she was walking in circles. Somewhere along the lines her mind had went numb. Oddly, her fear had vacated her.

That surely helped her fight the thing that scrambled out of the bushes at her. It moved slowly and didn't attack. But she knew better, she wouldn't give it a chance. Against her better and rational judgment, she kicked the thing. A hard kick that snapped something in the creature while simultaneously sending a sharp pain up her own leg. She didn't have time to think about that. She picked up a rock and began beating the thing until it stopped moving. For good measure, she held its head under the water—that's where she left it.

That would teach it not to leave its herd of fellow ungodly folk. She let out a laugh that sounded freakish even to her own ears. But it didn't matter, she had taken down two of them. Perhaps that would get the message through.

Thinking of nothing at all, she continued to wander until she came to something familiar. Another laugh escaped her, this one bitter. She _had_ been walking in circles. The ruins loomed just before her, inviting her to come back. Since they were being so welcoming, she did. She marched right back inside the church. She sat rigidly down in one of the pews.

The fear that she should have felt didn't hit her until the sun rose. That's when she saw the body. It was laying on the floor sprawled beneath the pew. She had been resting her feet on it for hours. She wouldn't have done that if she knew it was her sister's body. Her breathing grew rapid and heavy as the realization set in.

Regina had let the swamp in.

She reached up and touched her face. But her fingers didn't graze over skin. What they found instead, was a smooth elongated surface.

An old, beaten plague mask.


	9. The Ritual Artifact

**Ellen: Reality, she's possessed.**

 **SukieWookie: Thank you, happy to hear. :D She did lol, but she had a pretty solid reason for doing so.**

* * *

They weren't perusing her after all, they were following her.

She was their leader.

No. She wouldn't accept it…

She wouldn't...

She couldn't...

 _She was a mess of tears and blood and mud. Thorns and pine needles stuck to her face, intermingling with tear tracks. It was morning now, she could see the sun scorching through ghostly white branches. The same ill branches that provided her no comfort the night before. She had been begging the sun to rise as the Cyrcle gathered, but it couldn't be bothered to answer. Now it was out and mocking her again; she must have been out cold for some hours for she had a decent burn tickling her skin. Regina squinted against the harsh sunlight and rolled herself onto her side, facing away from it. She cried out at the sudden little sings in her cheeks and arms and the intense jab radiating from somewhere on her torso. The agony flared more and more powerfully until she became fully aware of and consumed by it. She was crying again, shaking with pain as the night prior replayed itself in her memory. The Cyrcle, the plague mask, the athame… she looked down to find that it was still there, embedded at the end of a long slash that ran from her lower belly to just beneath her breast. It was the source of her pain. She made an attempt to bring wrap her fingers around the hilt, but found that her hands were still bound. She screamed out again, but the landscape was barren and dead. Regina had no company save for the mist and the wind that swirled it and kicked up dust. She closed her eyes but could still feel the dirt under her eyelids, scratching like sandpaper until her eyes teared up even more than they were already. She coughed and spit out the flecks that invaded her mouth. Rather, she gave it a try. But her only success was making a mess of her chin, leaving her more pitiful than she was just seconds ago. If only she was able, she would wrap her arms around herself. Instead she ignored the piercing in her stomach and scrunched herself up into a feeble ball._

 _The sound of clicking on stone pulled her attention. A scrawny magpie came to walk into her field of vision. It came to stand before her, peering at her with four eyes. Regina knew she should have been disturbed. Perhaps the night before she would have shuddered at the sight. Now all she could muster was a simple thought—"how odd." The bird took a clump of her hair and yanked, hard. It managed to pull a few strands and swallowed them whole. That time she did shiver. She could feel its judging eyes on her naked body. "It's just a bird." She muttered to herself, but drew herself even more inward. She watched the magpie set itself afloat within a crater on the forest floor—a crater that had collected her blood as it continued to drip from the slash. "I should be dead?" She asked the magpie, half expecting the hellish avian to speak. With that she continued to weep. Weep for her physical state and for her mental strife. She never knew that her body could shake so much. She nuzzled her tear stained cheek in the dirt and dead leaves._

 _Regina heard a series of crunches and a sound of disgust. She found her hands being cut free. "Stop sniveling and clean yourself up. You're supposed to be a lady."_

 _Regina got to her knees and let out the least ladylike sob she possibly could have and hugged her mother's legs. The woman had nothing in kind to say but, God, Regina was relieved to see her. "Mother…" the woman in question stared at her, waiting. "Mother, please." She motioned to the gaping wound. Cora rolled her eyes and with a wave of her hand it sealed up._

" _Honestly, I had higher hopes for you." Cora grumbled._

 _Regina furrowed her brows. "Mother…"_

" _The blackthorn sigil could have been yours. We had an opportunity, Regina. And you wasted it." Cora dismissed._

" _I was. I… mother, I was kidnapped." Regina mustered._

 _She held up an empty silver necklace chain. "Look what you cost us."_

 _Regina's eyes went wide, she took a few sharp breathes. "Y-you did this." She was shaking no longer with fear, but with rage. "Which one were you? The one with the plague mask?"_

" _Don't be a fool, child."_

 _Cora's palm swiftly met Regina's cheek, leaving a stinging patch of red in its wake. Regina winced and let another round of tears slip. If the pine needles weren't embedded in her skin before, they sure were after that._

" _Why?" Regina whispered, catching sight of the magpie. It rose from the crater and shook her blood from its feathers. "Why do you always put me through these things. You're going to get me killed." She hadn't realized that she'd raised her voice until Cora's palm found her cheek again._

" _I'm helping you, Regina. I pulled a lot of strings to set that ritual in motion for us, and you made a joke of us."_

" _You made me into a ritual centerpiece?" Regina curled her hand into a fist that she knew she'd do nothing with._

 _Cora sighed. "One day, you'll claim your place at the head of the Cyrcle and we'll finally have the power we deserve."_

Regina was on her knees by the time the memory came to pass. She covered her ears with her hands as if that would stop the flow of her mind. Her nightmares, they weren't so. She had to admit she'd done a very stellar job at repressing the truth. She slumped over her sister's body, the weight of what she'd done slugged her in the chest.

She looked up to see the spider web witch looming over her, offering a wrinkled helping hand. In the other, the silver chain quivered.

Trembling just as she had some decades ago, looked at the blackthorn amulet around her neck. It had found her. She took the old woman's death-cold hand.

"Massssster." The woman hissed hoarsely. She brought her lips to Regina's hand. A spider slipped from the woman's mouth and scurried up Regina's arm. "Itssss time to find the sssacrificssse. Itssss time to find the boy."

Regina nodded at the old woman and accepted the chain. She slipped the amulet onto it. Somewhere deep down a part of her screamed in protest.


	10. Nocte Exorcismus & Epilogue

The thing in her head forced Regina to stride out of the church. Though still unsettled, she was starting to relax. The plague mask was beginning to feel strangely comfortable and the magpie that squawked in her ear was like a companion. A companion that constantly whispered vile things in her ear, calling back the very woman she had tried to leave behind. The spiderwebbed woman was trailing behind her. Her raspy breathing was the only sound, everything else in the forest dared not speak up. For the most part Regina found that this did not bother her. She clutched the amulet; it was hers, rather it would be if she just let go. If she just let the demon in the plague mask take her completely over. It would be so much easier, she would have nothing to fear from the forest nor the demons in it. One of them had already taken a shine to her. Perhaps it was the plague masked demon who was making her feel like this way, but the offer was oh so alluring. She took one more look at what she'd done and another at the forest. She closed her eyes and let go. She felt the darkness rush into her and screamed out in a kind agony she'd never felt before. She knew all at once that this kind of pain was from Hell itself. The very same Hell where from, Cora had summoned this demon in the first place. A sacrifice. She was the sacrifice. _Sacrificium in virtute, sacrificuium ad ultionem exarsere_ , the ancient chant echoed in her head. She could practically hear her mother whispering it. It whirred around and around in her brain as she and the demon within her navigated the forest. He was in her brain snooping and prying for any clues as to where Henry might be.

With him in her mind she found herself unafraid and un-ailed despite the dreadful state of her body. Deep within she knew that her physical body was of no use to the demon as soon as it accomplished its goal, so it would wear her down until there was nothing left of her. Briefly, before it took total control, she wondered why her mother thought that calling this thing forth would do them any good. The being probably made some pretty promises, but even she knew that a demon would never make good on its word. She must have been desperate, Regina concluded, desperate for power and vengeance.

As she stepped between the trees, with their dead bark and their gaping mite-filled holes she felt her body go tense with anticipation. The thrill of the hunt. Something sickly excited overtook her and twisted her face into a grim smile.

Yet still, the same part of here that screamed in protest earlier, was horrified. Horrified of what was in that forest and horrified of what the beast inside of her would make her do.

.oOo.

Henry hadn't stopped running since he'd initially taken off. He had to find something to break whatever curse his mother was under before something truly dreadful could happen. His lungs were on fire and the soles of his shoes were wearing thin. He could feel each and every pebble against the bottom of his feet. But he kept going, he had no choice; _they_ were all around him and if she stopped even for a moment they would pounce. He regretted not being more attentive to his mother's unease. Maybe if he had known, he could have stopped this. Maybe if she would have spoken up. He felt under his jacket, the book was still there. Being short of anything else to read he swiped it from the black church around when they'd first gotten there. As dismal of an aura the thing emitted, he was thankful for it. Had he not read it, he wouldn't have noticed anything wrong with Regina at all. He wouldn't have had a chance to

escape her…no, not her, the demon—Paludaeve. Just thinking the name chilled him to the core. The book said that it was critical though. Knowing the demon's name provided a means of control. It was like the Dark One's dagger, Henry deduced. He wondered if they came from the same ungodly origin.

He brought himself to a halt. It wasn't safe, but he had to read the book or else he'd be going in blind. He knew one thing for sure; he had to get Regina to the alter. That wouldn't be too difficult though, because she was trying to get _him_ there.

Shrinking himself into the shadows, he uncovered the book. He ran his fingers over its black leather cover. Embedded onto it was a silver skull with blackthorn branches twisting in and out of the eye sockets, nose holes, and mouth. _Paludaeve ex Libro_ , the letters were engraved with the same silver. He turned to the last chapter, thankful that someone had taken the time to translate the text. Probably someone who was just as desperate as he was to defeat this creature. He skimmed the pages with determination. Even as he did so, the forest seemed to leer at him. A crack from somewhere nearby had his head whipping up. His stomach turned when he saw nothing. The only thing worse than seeing something was seeing nothing where something should certainly be. He quickly thumbed through the pages with shaking fingers. He was running out of time. It was difficult to see the words in such poor light but he squinted and persisted because he'd finally come upon the part he'd been looking for. There were a few items he needed to retrieve, among them was an athame, some special rope, and potent sage. More than anything though, he needed to keep the book safe. Buried in its brittle pages was a Latin chant. He would have no hope of memorizing it all beforehand, so he would need to read from the book and pray that he could pronounce the words correctly.

As Henry went to tuck the book away he felt a jaw wrap around his wrist. He caught a glimpse of matted stringy hair, plastered onto a sickly yellow body, thick with slime or sweat. The thing smelled of rotting garbage and had beady yellow eyes. With a snapping sound, much like the one he'd heard earlier the jaw unhinged completely. Its face pushed back, scrunching up in nightmarish folds and wrinkles. And its bloody maw extended like a thick straw full of sharp points. He flinched away and scrambled to his feet. It rose to its full height—hip high on him. But it was no less terrifying and he had no doubt that the monster had speed on its side, if there was anything he learned from his years of watching horror it was that the small ones were the quick ones. He picked up the biggest fallen branch he could find. He waited for the thing to widen its maw and pounce. When, at last, it did, he wedged the branch into its mouth painfully and vertically. Surely that wouldn't stop it, but all he need was time to make a mad dash out of there.

His mind whirred as he darted between trees almost too compact to squeeze through. Where could he possibly find the tools he needed? He already plundered every inch of the black church. "Think Henry, think." He muttered to himself, very careful to keep the dialog inward. He scanned the forest, trying to gain a sense of where he was when he spotted another being. This one was emaciated—practically flat as if it were meant for a 2-D cartoon. It was made to navigate the trees. It spotted Henry and its arm bent and folded into a fine point. With no reason to keep quiet, Henry swore and bitterly asked himself where are all of these things were coming from. He had to be smart about this; there was no way he could out run it. His brain grew frenzied as he fought for a plan. He wove in and out of the trees to the best of his ability, only stopping when his jacket snagged on a tree. He was trapped and that thing was fast drawing close. He struggled with his jacket, huffing and grunting until he freed himself from its tangle. This left him with little time, he snatched _Paludaeve ex Libro_ and bounded to the left where the gap in the trees was the widest. He came to a tree with many knobs and a plan came to mind. But he'd have to ditch the book…

"No way." He muttered allowed, he liked to think that he was smarter than that. His moms had raised him better. He hustled to open the book to the most important pages and swiftly tore them away from their binding. He stuffed them into his pockets and began to climb. The bumps in the tree weren't as easy to grip as he'd hoped, especially with his hands shaking with anxiety. It certainly didn't help that he could feel spiders, centipedes, and other tree-dwelling nocturnal insects smoosh under his palm or crawl across the top of his hands. But he made it and from the looks of it, just on time. The beast below was clawing at the base of the tree. Henry was placing all odds on the notion that it was too malnourished to climb. From up hear he was glad that the trees were so tightly packed, that make the next phase of his plan easier; he jumped from tree to tree until the skeletal thing was a haunting speck in the distance. He dropped to the forest floor at the sight of the lake. From above he could see their initial camping spot, their car, their way out. He could also spot a row of evil bodies blocking the way. But from up there, they would be no bother. He could have done it, could have hopped from tree to tree until he reached safety. But he wouldn't leave his mothers nor Zelena behind. He winced upon remembering the latter of the two wouldn't be coming home and he dreaded to tell Regina why that was.

He trudged along the length of the river, following boot prints that resembled Emma's. He hopped it wasn't a trap. He didn't have to follow it for very long before he found something that brought him to a stunned halt. His stomach lurched at the sight of the body. Its head was still in dipped into the river. He dared not lift it, he could only imagine the damage the fish had done to it in nibbling at it and the sight of leeches stuffed into waterlogged cheeks. It was only after the recognition hit, that Henry leaned over and vomited. After his stomach was effectively emptied, he sobbed softly to himself.

The only person left to take home now, was Regina and a dark part of himself wanted anything but that. He knew that this was her work. Emma's death was too clean to be done by one of the specters in the forest—had they done it Emma would be either slashed up or in pieces. It had to have been Regina, no doubt, with the tug of Paludaeve's influence. He fought to cling onto the fact that Paludaeve could create horrifying tricks and illusions that could easily have pit both Regina and Emma against each other. _Emma could have done this to Regina too_ , _it could have been the other way around_ , he thought to himself. It was the only thing that kept resentment from bubbling up and pushing him to abandon the only parent he had left. All the same he couldn't help the violent thoughts that dance through his stream of thoughts. Regina had killed Emma, and he wanted to hurt her. To _end_ her. He shook his head as hard as he could without hurting himself. No, that wasn't him, he wasn't that kind of person, and he wouldn't let the forest trick him into thinking he was. That's not what Emma would have wanted.

He took her hand. "I'll save Regina for both of us. And I'll get rid of Paludaeve for good." He gave that cold lifeless hand a squeeze.

His hand curled around the pages of the book. Just where was he going to find sage around here? Where was the rope, the athame? He had next to nothing to go by. He stared in front of him. He couldn't see it through the wall of trees, but the alter was just ahead.

A flicker of movement caught his eye. With it came a series of angry chirps and squawks. He watched the battle unfold in a tangle of feathers and beaks. A robin red breast and a magpie snapping and pecking mercilessly at each other. Even though it wasn't faring well, Henry was rooting for the robin. He watched the magpie clamp its beak down on a cluster of the robin's feathers and snap its neck back. With it came a sickly tearing noise. Blood welled up where the feathers once rested and the robin cried out. A certain fury befell Henry, without thinking he took a rock—perhaps the same one Regina had hit Emma with—and chucked it. For a brief window of time, Henry feared that he'd strike both the robin and the magpie. But it collided only with the magpie. His victory was signaled by the sound of a gruesome crunch. He could see the magpie's feathers still twitching under the rock. Despite it all, Henry felt pity for it. He didn't want to kill the bird, he just wanted to stop it from killing the other. A horrible shriek sliced through his wave of mourning. He found himself growing rigid, he needed to get moving. On weak wings, the robin fluttered over. He watched it choke for a moment before gagging up what looked like a dried herb. Morbid curiosity had him observing it more closely.

Sage.

It was no use to him in such a state, but it was sage.

On skinny legs, the robin zipped around. With no other lead, Henry opted to follow it. He had saved its life, now he hoped that it would do the same thing for him. He followed it until the church's dismal spires were in clear view. "No, no." Henry whispered. "We can't go there yet." But the robin was clear in its intentions. It was leading him right to the alter. Perhaps he had made a mistake in saving it.

Or, he considered, what he was looking for had been near him all along.

The robin came to a stop at a stone on the alter that was cracked and weeping creeping-ivy. It's tiny battered beak tugged at the vines. Henry swiveled his head every which way before deciding to step out of the tree line. Coming to conclude that not another soul (kind nor vile) was around, he stepped forward. He came to stand before the stone and brushed the ivy to the side. Hesitantly, he pried the stone loose. Only half of it refused to budge but that was good enough. He took his flashlight from his pocket. The lens was cracked but it clicked on despite the damage. He shined it into the hole and peered in. He smiled, the robin led him to exactly what he needed. Except for the athame, someone else had gotten to that first.

That someone stood behind him grinning so savagely and twistedly that he could scarcely recognize her. Regina took two off-balance steps towards him. "Henry. Oh good, Henry I was looking all over for you." She sounded like Regina, the voice was the same. But there was something in her concerned tone that didn't quite sit right with what Henry was familiar with. "Henry, come here, I'll protect you." He realized then exactly what was disturbing him. Her voice quivered with false worry but her expression…she was still smiling crazily. It was like she'd forgotten to match her face with her voice.

He could see the athame glistening in her hand.

"Henry." She repeated. This time her voice was laced with another deep more guttural one. "Henry, did you kill my pet?" She lurched forward, slamming him into one of the pillars. The impact rocked his shoulders. Regina was much stronger than he thought, she had him very effectively pinned. He refused to drop the sage and the rope though. Instead he stuffed those into his pockets as she dragged him towards the alter.

"Mom, let go, you're hurting me." He tried, hoping to reach the real Regina. He half expected her to throw him on to the alter but she still had her wits about her, instead she lowered him down and held him there. Instead of trying to keep him down she lifted her arms and with them a wall of fire rose up to surround the alter. He had nowhere to go. She took him by surprise again when she delivered one swift kick to each of his knees, he was on the ground again. The athame flashed in her hand. He could hear her frenzied breathing and wondered if she was still fighting for control or if she had been completely consumed. She had him pinned again, this time to the floor. Her knee was digging painfully into his stomach. He squeezed his eyes shut. When he opened them again, Regina had her hands covering her left eye. The robin swooped down again, snapping at her hear drawing blood.

It pained him to do so, but he pounced, knocking Regina down. This time it was she who found herself pinned to the ground. He worked as quickly as he could to bind her hands. She was kicking and writhing beneath him, snarling like some kind of animal. He could see the pure rage in her eyes. She wanted to hurt him…to kill him. She was speaking but nothing he could understand; he could swear she was speaking in reverse.

When Henry finally got her sufficiently bound, he wrenched the athame from her grasp and withdrew the torn pages. With them the sage dropped to the floor. The sage! Never taking his eyes off of his mother, he gathered the sage bundle and held it to the fire. He set it down next to Regina and she screamed out. The sound that followed was bone chilling and had no trace of Regina in it at all. It was all Paludaeve, he knew what was about to happen. Henry glowered down at the demon. He would free Regina from it forever. As calmly as he could manage, he began reciting the lines from _Paludaeve ex Libro._ He did his best not to stumble over words so foreign to him. But after running through the same long chant over and over again the words seemed to blend and bleed together. Between that and watching Regina struggle against the binds, twisting in ways that should not be possible, he was having trouble. He knew that exorcisms were a foul business, but seeing it before his own eyes was a different matter. He carried on regardless wondering why he was making such little progress. Once again it was the robin that came to his aid. In its beak it carried a rosary. _The cross!_ Henry thought. Apparently, the book thought that such was common sense. Henry felt foolish for not knowing. The one he was gifted wasn't nearly as large as the ones in the movies, but it would work. It had to.

He held it close to Regina, hearing her hiss and draw back was enough to let him know that it would be effective. He resumed the chant, this time with the cross held above her head. His hand was too close though, and she offered it a blood drawing bite. Gritting his teeth, he did his best to ignore the feeling. She fought the binds until her wrists grew red and raw. The tiniest dots of blood speckled her skin. He kept chanting, over and over again until he could see the darkness ebbing from her mouth towards the moon. With the most awful choking sound, Regina's body let go of the last bit of darkness. She went still, but he could still hear her soft cries.

The demon, in it's true from, was upon him. For a moment all he could do was stare. Everything he ever knew about demons told him that they were hideous things to behold—stuff that can only be seen in the most dreadful of nightmares. But this being was nothing. Nothing at all. Nothing but a space of true darkness. A deep black pit where the air should be. He picked up the athame unsure if he should toss it at the darkness or not. He held it up as he'd seen the Dark One's dagger being held and with it he lifted the rosary. Paludaeve kept its distance. From him anyways, the ghastly creature was heading right back to its host. Quickly Henry attached the rosary to the athame and let it fly, directly into the heart of the dark void. He was breathing quite heavily but dashed over to Regina's side anyhow and undid the knots. "We have to go mom."

Her eyes were glossy and distant. He was losing her and he didn't know how to help.

"Monolith." She whispered.

"What?"

"Monolith." She repeated. "Bring it," she pointed at the featureless demon, "to the monolith."

Henry didn't know how she knew that or if she knew what she was talking about at all. He winced, or if he could _trust_ her word. He shook his head, the vileness was gone from her. This was _his_ Regina. _His_ mom. Mustering up the very last of his energy, he bolted up the hill. He weaved between headstones and nearly tripped over rocks, all the while the hellish entity pursued him. It was always just a pencil length away. At the last second, he ducked down and made a sliding dive at the monolith. The lonesome structure knew it's job and Henry was thankful to have ducked. With a sound most comparable to an airy blender and a beam of hot white light, it sucked the dark pit in. Paludaeve was nothing more than a splotch on the blinding beam.

Just when Henry thought he'd heard all of the Earth, and Hell's most horrid sounds, there came another. A bone chilling, gut churning choir. Each and every member of Paludaeve's monstrous legion was screaming. All at once and from everywhere at once. Each had its own district wail. Henry covered his ears and felt a warm fluid seep between his fingers. He wondered if Regina had the strength to cover her own. She must have—but deliberately chose not to—for she was crawling up the hill. Either too weak or too broken, she could move herself in no other way. "Mom, get back." Henry instructed, but his words drowned and sunk in the anguished sea of noise. He couldn't even hear himself.

And then it all stopped.

The woods around them were completely silent. The kind of silence that made Henry want to scream just to make it go away. A kind of silence that very well matched, the absence of color wherever Paludaeve hovered.

The silence dragged on for many minutes and finally, the monolith closed in a hiss of air. The death rattle of that which had never been born.

Henry fell onto his back breathing hard. Finally having the time, he opened the flood gates and cried. Cried in fear and pain and for the losses he hadn't the chance to actually weep for.

But Regina wasn't done. She came to a gravestone and forced a body, already spent far past its limit, into a standing position. With the last ounce of her strength and willpower, she threw her magic upon the monolith. It crumbled with a stony groan. Never again would it spit evil out into their world again. With a satisfied and victorious smirk, she fell face first onto the ground.

.oOo.

"You ready mom?" Henry asked, he was beaming from ear to ear.

It was difficult for her, more difficult than anything else she'd ever done, to pretend that she was okay. She was at times, truly content. But at her worst she could still taste Paludaeve on her tongue, still feel his uninvited touch in her mind. Even after all these years his scent lingered on her and she could vividly feel the tears in her feet. More than anything she could still feel the blood of two of the people she cared for most, on her hands. It hurt and burned her up on the inside.

But she was ready.

Ready to move on.

Ready to live again.

"Yes Henry, I am." She returned his smile warmly.

Henry took her hand, his fingers brushing over the rough scar tissue on her wrist. He led her out to the car and finished stuffing the tent into the back. "You sure?"

She squeezed his hand and looked up at the sky. A lonely robin with a beaten beak swooped down and landed on her shoulder. "Absolutely."


End file.
